Warboss 'EadCrusher: A 40k Fanfiction
by WarbossShearer
Summary: This started as a data sheet for a Warboss in my DnD campaign. I went overboard and decided to make a full character. This led to that and *BOOM* story. The data present is about 'EadCrusher an indiscernible amount of time in the future. Join The newly made Warboss through his journey through Minos 5, an abandoned Forge World. Watch him become "DA BIGGEST ORK ON DIS SKRAP HEAP!"
1. Chapter 1: Warboss in the Making

Name: Warboss 'EadCrusher

Planet: Minos V

Clan: Bad Moonz

Wargear: Kustom Twin-Linked Beamy Deff Gun,Kustom Power Klaw, 'Ard Armour

Warcry: "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

Backstory: Like any other Bad Moonz Ork, hoards teef and technology, having the most and most advanced in that order. Rose to power in M40 and due to the world he was born on being a former Forge World, he has the resources to have his

Meks build a Plethora of new "Moar Killy" warmachines. He himself has no traits that set him apart from any other Warboss specifically, although he is clad in tougher armour than most as well as wielding two weapons of high firepower,

those being his Twin Linked Beamy Deff Gun which he wields in his right hand aptly named "Krooza Killa" due to it being used to shoot down multiple Imperial Airborn Transport Ships trying to explore the now Ork dominated Forge World.

Made from the wreckage of a Twin-Linked Hell-Hammer Pattern Lascannon made "Orky" It operates just as it's Imperial counterpart, although somehow, his Meks have managed to make it: 1. Have a seemingly endless ammount of ammunition

(although this is seen on many ork weapons) much faster (A lascannon of that pattern can only fire about a shot every 15 seconds, while his fires multiple in half that amount of time) 3. Operate seemingly in a state of disrepair

(although this is seen on many ork weapons). All in all, this weapon is no small threat, taking out Vehicles and Heavily Armoured units with relative ease, though it is still a Heavy Weapon, reducing the Warboss's speed and not very

effective on smaller, more numerous enemies. Next is his Kustom Power Klaw named "'Ead Splitter" It has served by his side longer than any of his other weapons. When he was an Ork Lootah, he had lost an arm to one of the Tech Priests

attempting to his fallen Forge World. The servant of the Omnissiah with his Greataxe, separated the Orks left arm from his body. Due to the Axe being of the "Power" category of weapons, the wound was cauterized as it was being formed.

Unknowingly, the Tech Priest had given the Ork Lootah the strength to fight on, instead of lying on the ground bleeding out. The soon-to-be Warboss then aimed his Big Shoota at the Tech Priest, and with a Defiant "WAAAAAAAGH!" Blasted

him until he looked like no more than a jam made up of robotic bits and human flesh. The Lootah walked up to his fallen foe and claimed his Skull, roaring as he turned to the rest of his tribe, put the skull between his teef and crushing

the amalgamation of machine and man between his jaws. The Ork then dragged his arm, the Axe and his Big Shoota back to the Hut of Mad Dok SnippyChop. The Dok saw how cleanly the orks arm had been sliced off, the shiny Axe that the Lootah

had on him and the abundance of Teef the Ork still had in his mouth and set upon "repairing" the damaged Ork. After 2 whole days, the Dok and his retinue of Gretchin emerged from the tent with the severed arm of the Ork. They held it

up to the burning Wreckage of the remains of the Forge Worlds largest Factorium, one that produced all sorts of Imperial Weaponry, and tossed the arm into it. The Dok then turned around and beckoned his newest expirement to come out.

Dead. Dead was the Ork Lootah who dueled with the Servant of The Omnissiah. Dead was the Lootah, who's name has been long forgotten. Out stepped somthing new. Out stepped 'Ead Crusha. Out stepped a Warboss. 'Ead Crusha had grown sizeably

from the fight between him and the Tech Priest. The "Metal 'umies" are not a force to be taken lightly, and killing one is a great honor for the Orks of Minos V. He had gone from a sizeable 6 foot 4, to a gargantuan 10 foot 2 and with a

massive Power Klaw made of the Omnissian Axe's metal to match his size. The Dok had smiled a toothy grin at his new work, then took out a rather large bag full of Teef he had aquired from his new work and smiled even wider. It is always

a good thing to feel joy before death. This was apparent, as due to Painboyz not having the best score in terms of patient comfort, the enraged 'EadCrusher had made a full on dash to the still glee struck and smiling Dok. 'EadCrusher had

punched the Ork in the gut with his right fist, and proceded to take the Painboy by the head as he lifted him up, walked with him to the center of the Tribe and crushed his skull, right infront of the acting Warboss, GitStompa,

effectivley challenging his power and enacting a fight between the two Orkoid Giants. The ground and newly formed croud shook in fear and awe as the former Lootah strode up to the Warboss and chucked the Painboys lifless body at his

feet, spitting on the 'ard Bootz that adorned said feet. No words needed to be said. The Warboss slowly stood from his Boss Chair and aimed his Kustom Shootah at 'EadCrusher and lined up a shot. 'EadCrusher didnt move a muscle. The

Warboss, never facing another Ork with such gall, guffawed as he lowered his weapon. He stepped down to meet the challenger on an even footing.

"Right Orky you are!" Roared the Boss to the amusement of his retinue of Stormnobz

"You'll make a fine additiion to my Nobz!"

"Dats not gonna happen...Boss." The "Boss" was not said, it was spat out, like a Squig Pie that was filled with well "Squigpie"

"IZ IS GONNA BE DA BIGGEST ORK ON DIS 'ERE SCRAP HEAP!" 'EadCrusher decreed to the gathering crowd

"DAT DERE MACHINE 'UMIE WUZ JUST DA START! IZ IS GONNA STOMP EVRYFING ON DIS ROCK AND THEN KRUMP THE NEXT ONE OVAH! AND THEN ON, AND THEN ON!"

The Boss laughed

"Well, da wayz I see it, Iz is da biggest Ork around, and I sayz Wez gonna stay 'ere and collect scrap for me Battlewaggon!"

The Boss gestured to a group of Mek Boyz working on a vehicle that was the size of a Baneblade and covered with sputtering engines and flaming pipes

"I'm da Boss, and what I sayz, goez, got it...grot?"

That last word. Grot. An insult, clear as day. One that burned in 'EadCrushers mind. The Warboss was much larger than 'EadCrusher. While, not a short Ork by any means, 'EadCrusher was 10'2 while GitStompa was a hulking 15 foot even!

In Ork society, an Orks size is relative to their strength, the more they fight, the bigger they get. Meaning that a smaller Ork has relativley no chance against a smaller Ork, not just because of strenght and social standing, but due

to genetics. 'Ead Crusha was going to have to get much bigger, if he had ever hoped to beat the Warboss, but he couldn't turn around now. Charging the Boss with rage and Klaw, GitStompa met his charge with a Kick directly to

'EadCrushers gut. The Ork went stright to the floor. Writhing in pain the stunned 'Ead Crusher looked up and saw the Warboss guffawing in victory, enticing the crowd to laugh at the fallen Ork. The last thing he saw before blacking out

was the Boot he had earlier spat upon, speeding twoards his head. 'EadCrusher awoke an unknown amount of days later, groggy, and missing a LOT of teeth. He rose from his cot surrounded by the Gretchin assistants of the Tribes Mek Boyz.

"Zog me, where am I?" Said the disgruntled Ork, still shaking off the remenants of his unconciousness.

"Youz iz in da Mek Shop!" Hollered one of the Gretchin

"Since you krumped the Dok, wez has been lookin after all da smashed up Orkz!"

So it seems that the stomping that was the fight between him and the Warboss wasn't a dream.

"Wot happened to me afta da Boss krumped me?"

"Youz got stomped up bad, but Big Mek BlitzShokka saw dat shiny Klaw of yours and decided to keep it! Unfortunatley for him, dat arm was ded fixed on you."

'EadCrusher lifted his Klaw up and gave it a proper test. It was just like his old hand, albiet missing about 2 digets and having the remaning 3 replaced by massive scissor like talons. Otherwise, it felt just as good as the old one.

The one thing that bothered 'EadCrusher was not the newfound lack of Teeth, or the new and shiny (and still attached) Klaw, but was the confusion left by the Warboss not killing him outright. He had every right too. An Ork that

challanges the Boss is forfit to the whim of whatever the Boss chooses if he loses. This normally means death, but in 'EadCrushers case, all he got was a stomping and a good while in a coma. To Boot, the Big Mek seems to have worked

a bit on his Power Klaw, making it even Larger and added some Rokkit Thrustas to the back of it. The newly awakened Ork sat up and reoriented himself with his legs and he stood. Emerging from the Mek shop into the burning daylight he saw

it. The Warboss and his retinue of Nobz had been waiting for him.

"Awake now are ya?" said the Warboss

"Good. Now i s'pose your wonderin' why yer still alive?"

'EadCrusher was still in a groggy state, unbalanced in stance, and unbalanced in mindset. He charged, or more, hobbled at the Warboss grunting and groaning. The Warboss scoffed and pushed him to the ground, with force little more than a

light shove.

"Oi, we've been through that song and dance once before. It won't work."

"I told you'z I wuz gun'ta be da biggest Ork on dis Scrap heap!" Slurred the disoriented Ork

"Yeah? And I krumped you in da 'ead, you must got da biggest 'eadache on dis Scrap heap!" Laughed the Warboss.

"Listen, if I wuz 'ere to foight, I would have killed ya the last time. No. Im 'ere for a different reason."

'EadCrusher stood back up, this time not about to charge the Boss

"Iz dat right? Well then, lets 'ear it."

"Youz wuz right. Us sitten 'ere doin Zog all just ain't Orky. We needz ta crush and foight, because dats wut we Orkz do."

"And wot do ya wan't me for?"

"I wantz you to start a tribe."

"Wait, wot? Wez got plenty of dem Metal 'Umies to Krump, why do youz want me to start a tribe?"

"Dats all fine 'n dandy dat iz, but us Greenskins arent..."satisfied" with just krumpin tin canz. Wez need to krump more fingz, and I can see a burnin' fire in your 'eart. Youz will be a good foight you will. And dat Klaw dere will see

you 'dere"

"And how am I supposed to start a Tribe? Iz is just one Ork"

"Dats why im givin' you d'ese!" The Warboss gestured to a group of Orks.

"Dem? Dem's all da panzee boyz! I can't start a Tribe wif dem!"

"Would ya rather i Split ya 'ead right ere?" Threatened the hulking Ork

"Fine! But mark my words, when I come back, Iz is gonna krump you good! And I won't make the mistake you made!"

"And what mistake is that?" Asked GitStompa

"You let me live"

And with that, the Ork, his Klaw,his small ragtage group of Orks, and a serious concussion, set off to create the greatest Tribe the world of Minos V ever saw.


	2. Chapter 2: The Beginnings of a Tribe

Chapter 1: The Beginnings of a Tribe

"Orks is meant to fight and win!" Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka

'EadCrusher and his mob of mismatched Boyz turned and walked away from Warboss GitStompa's tribe, exiles. The newly (but not ceremoniously) crowned Warboss surveyed his mob as soon as the Tribe was out of sight. Around him were a group of 5 Boyz, the standard infantry of the Orks, a Mek Boy, and an amount of gretchin and snotlings uncountable because of their refusal to stay still. This would have to do he supposed, as he had not been in the most "advantageous" position right now. On closer inspection, the Mek Boy had been fairly new to the former tribe, only having limited experience in their craft, needing more time before their Orkish natures took full effect and they could perform to their standard in Ork "civilization".

"Oi, Mek, wot iz it youz can do?" growled 'EadCrusher at the startled Mek Boy

"Umm, Iz can make a shootah! An' Im tryin' to gets me 'ead around makin a Deff Gun!" replied the Mek with pride.

"Izzat all? No Trukks or Bikez or any sort of transpORKtation?"

"Uhhhh, no Boss."

"Then I guess we'z is walkin' then."

"Mek, wotz your name?"

"Errr, I don't fink I 'ave one. Boyz back 'ome just called me "Runt Mek" or "Mek Grot"

"Hmph, wez in gonna show 'em. Stik wif me Boy. I need a good Mek, and you need a name."

"Mmmmm, Yes sir!"

With this the group marched on, into the scrap wasted of the one bustling, mechanized, Forge World. Into the unknown, 'EadCrusher pointed, and wherever he pointed, the Mob would go.

Minos V: The planet of Minos V was a relatively tame planet in terms of wildlife. That being none at all. Climate wise temperatures were stable in terms of Ork standards. Not too hot in the Summer, and only reaching negative temperatures during the deep Winters. Otherwise, the only threat on the planet was the scattered and shattered remains of the Mechanicus that yet remained in the shrines to the Omnissiah. This included the Tech Priest, the Skitaari soldiers, and the Dune Crawlers, but most of these were in a state of disrepair, or not numerous enough to pose a serious threat, save, the Dune Crawler. To best a Dune Crawler was a feat no lone Ork on Minos had ever accomplished. To do so would be to fight with the Machine Spirit itself, and no lowly Ork had a chance of doing that. Besides that, they were a rare sight in functioning order, the Skitaari inside either dead, or malfunctioning severely. But on the rare occasion, a single Dunecrawler can cause havoc upon nearby Tribes not equipped to fight such monstrosities of metal earning them the nickname "Deff Crawlers".

It was around Noon, or Minos's equivalent. Days lasted around 18 standard Terran hours and Nights were around 12. Making a full cycle on Minos V 30 hours. 'EadCrusher spent this time scouting out new places for his mob to set up camp. All day he looked around. Searching for a plot of land that was perfect for a place he could call "Home". This day, the task would not be fulfilled. The Boyz and the Boss had cleared a small area from scrap and the like so that they could set up a fire and rest. Being a "Warboss" it seemed like an opportune time to get to know his Boyz. Boyz being the staple of any Ork Tribe, and a necessity for a powerful Ork Warband.

"Wotz wif you Boyz? Why did GitStompa boot yew out?" Asked the inquisitive Ork

"Wez iz da Brawlie Boyz!" The orks said unanimously

"Wez is Odd Boyz!"

"Wot? Youz iz just boyz! You ain't no Dok, or Runtherd!"

"No Boss, we izznt Oddboyz wez iz Odd Boyz!"

"So you're Weirdboyz?"

"Yeah! Weird Boyz!"

"Not Weirdboyz? Like a Warp 'ead?"

"No wez iz just Weird, Odd, Boyz!"

"Huh. Zog that. Youz is all Grots for now. Until you earn da title of "Brawlie Boyz" youz is da "Strange Boyz"

The mob of Boyz looked at at each other, silent, then looked back at the Boss

"Wez can live wif dat!"

"Roight den. Strange Boyz, anyfing you can do dats speshul?"

Once again the Boyz looked at each other in eerie silence

"Wez can do dis!"

All the Orks looked at each other and then to a pile of scrap. They then pointed their Shootahs at the pile and unanimously, just as their speech, without pause, in perfect sync. All of the clunking Shootahs jammed. All 5. All 5 guns went *click* and let off a small puff of black smoke.

"Wow. Dat was stupid dat wuz. Roight sad." Said the Warboss. Amazed by the collective failure.

"Hmmm, I fink I could fix dat...in a few hours. Hopefully." Chimed the Mek from over in the corner

"Dat wasn't supposed to happen Boss. We swear!" Chimed the choir of confused Boyz

Although generally disappointed by the spectacular failure of his Boyz, he had gotten a rough understanding of these ones. Everything they did was in sync. They spoke together, they fire together, they move together. No need to worry about one of them retreating because they fight together. Strange Boyz they were, but 'EadCrusher saw potential. A collective Ork mind making decisions of multiple individual Orkz but with the will of one single entity. Although, to 'EadCrusher, thinking this caused a massive headache halfway through the word "collective". Now that his Mob was sorted out, and he and his Mek have created a mutual bond, he could rest slightly easier knowing that creating a tribe from all but nothing, wasn't going to be a completely impossible task.

Off in the shadows. Watching the small group of Orkz. Two red eyes loomed in the darkness. The scraping of metal and the rubbing of hands was the only sound made by the mysterious figure. The Mek, not being exactly the brightest Squig in the pen, but smarter than your average Boy, cast his gaze towards the sound of quietly clanking metal. In his very soul he felt this presence. Everyone in the camp felt this, they were just to busy trying to find the worth in each other to worry about some shadowy creature, but the Mek felt the connection. The connection only craftsmen can feel. The connection a Tech Priest feels to a Apothecary, or a Earth Caste feels to a Water Caste. But this feeling, was stronger. Like the two were psychically linked to one another. The only problem was, the Mek Boy was not a Psyker and he felt it, neither was the shadow. What connects Orks together? Why do Orks form bonds? What compels a craftsman to another creator, even if that work isn't of the same purview. Boyz create War, Bosses create Waaghs, that is their creation. Runtherds create Obedience, Weirdboyz create Chaos. That is what binds them. Meks create Machines. Was the shadow another master of mechanical menageries? If so, Mek Boyz never travel alone. They rely on the assistance on the tribe to gather scrap for their Mechanized Monstrosities, so it wasn't a Mek. The world was formerly a world literally crawling with masters of the Machine Spirit. Were they a remnant of the old world? Or was it a different sort of creator. What do Mek Boyz connect to? While the other Orkz connect to another another Ork of a different caste, what does a Mekboy connect to? What Ork creates as much as a Mek? With this final thought, the eyes disappeared. Into the void. The Mek looked off into the darkness, silent. Wondering. Pondering. Who?


	3. Chapter 3: Meks fix Mechs

Chapter 3: Meks fix Mechs...what fixes Meks?

"Right, first I'll take those teef out for yer, dat should help ease da pain in yer leg. Grokkit, hand me that wrench. Now then... Open wide, and say... AAARGH!"-Dok Gutslash

"*SMACK* Oi! Mek! You'z izznt bein' paid to muck about in the darkness!" Said the Warboss to his Mek Boy

"Hrrngh, sorry Boss! Iz just felt sumfing out dere."

"Well did ya feel my 'and to da back of yer 'ead?"

"Mmmm, yessir!"

"As I thought! Now, get to work to fixing deze Strange Boyzez Shootahs. I need dem to hold guard throughout da night."

Wit that, the Ork went to work gathering scrap for the task of repairing (and potentially improving) the Shootahs. Off clanking with his tools of (not so) mass construction. The inner workings of a shoota are EXTREMELY simple. Especially to a Mek. All it needs to do in his mind, are 1. Shoot when the trigger is pulled. 2. Be able to be carried. 3. Have a trigger (or other firing mechanism). 4. Make bullet holes. 5. Generate LOTS of "Dakka". Dakka being the Ork word for rapid and loud firepower. This is the task of every Mek Boy. Everything he creates is subjected to these guidelines. From the smallest Shootah to the largest Gargant, the effigies to the Ork Gods, Gork and Mork. For now however, this task was challenge enough for the Mek.

"Hmph, nuffings speshul about deze shootahs...wot made 'em mal-malf...malfun...break. Wot made 'em break?" Asked the Mek

"Bah, wotevah. Real strange. Speshul or not speshul, i'm gonna need sum scrap."

With this observation made, he set out into the scrapyard to find some "adequate" scrap. Though the planet was rusted and full of iron dust, strewn all over were mounds and mountains of scrap metal. And sometimes, rarely, you'll find treasure in the middle of these piles.

The Mek spent an hour or two digging. Looking for some good plate metal to "Refurbish" the Shootahs he had been assigned. The metal was there, he just couldn't find it. Digging through heap after heap, looking for the remnants of a Factorum's walls, or the plating of a Basilisks turret and although the Mek would never know "where" these pieces of metal came from, he certainly knew where they would go. Mek had all but given up. Picking at the remnants of one of the larger piles near the camp, he grabbed what seemed like a spring. Something to entertain him before he continued to trudge through the Scrap Yard. Giving the small spring a push, the easily entertained Ork giggled (or as close to a "giggle" as an Ork could recreate). He decided that he wanted to know what else this spring had to offer, so he gave it a yank.

"OI! Mek! Iz yous mucking about again?!" Roared 'EadCrusher

"Aah! No Boss! Iz is just...uhh, "procuring" this spring for a new tinkering of mine! Yeah, dats it!"

"Forget yer new tinkering! Wez need those Shootahs by mornin'! If youz don't stop mucking about, it's my Klaw Hand going to da back of yer 'ead!"

"Right Boss!, lemme just..."

The Ork tried his hardest to yank the spring free, he yanked and yanked, and yanked even harder, when Warboss 'EadCrusher stood up and began the slow stride towards the Mek. Finally, as the Warboss reared his Klaw to smack the Mek senseless, the spring gave way, and with it, the Head of something, very, very, angry. And attached to that head, well, something angrier.

" :

S" The warrior sputtered and chirped as its mechanics and flesh re-connected.

" T"

"01000001 01110111 01100001 01101011 01100101 01101110 01000001 01110111 01100001 01101011 01100101 01101110 01000001 01110111 01100001 01101011 01100101 01101110 01000001 01110111 01100001 01101011 01100101 01101110"

The machine churned out numbers repeatedly, and the Warboss tried to break its stupid face to make it stop, but to no avail. The Machine kept sputtering, numbers without end. The cacophony got louder, and louder until it Hit the Mek. Really hard too. A Chord Claw had hit him dead in the head. Thankfully for the Mek, the Claw was damaged enough for the vibrations the claw emitted being a Transonic weapon to not function at all, making it little more than a more nimble power fist. The Chant was getting louder, not just from the Tin Can in front of them, but from all over the Scrap Yard. These weren't just Tech Priests. They were the Mechanicums infantry forces. The Skitarii. Vanguard it would seem.

The Mek was knocked out cold, badly damaged, and more Skitarii were rising from scrap heaps like Necrons from their eternal Tombs. 'EadCrusher had roared and proceeded to throw the original Vanguard warrior deep into the Yard. He let out a Resounding "WAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" Announcing to not only his Boyz, but to everyone within earshot, that he was the Biggest, Baddest, Meanest, Greenest, Ork in the Region. The Skitarii did not falter. They rushed the Boss with Chorclaws, servo arms, Radium Rifle Bayonets, Power Axes, and the like. Each one was batted away easily by the Boss's Massive Klaw. Fervor filled 'EadCrushers soul. This was a Fight! This is what he lived for! Oil and blood flew across the battlefield like waves on a resort worlds artificial beach, but unlike a resort world, their point of origin was not a Tide Generator, it was a Massive Green Ork, and the droves of Skitarii warriors attempting his life. Behind the Boss lay the unconscious body of his Mek. The Klaw had pierced his eye, and it seemed like it went right into his brain. He was unmoving, like death had already taken him, but Orks, even smaller ones are highly resilient. The initial wound would not kill him, but without medical aid he would quickly fade away. Over the pile of scrap that seperated the temporary camp and the massive battle, came the Strange Boyz. All hooting and hollering in unison, just like the Skitariis Chants, the Strange Boyz WAAAGH! was unified, and as they charged into battle, their jammed shootahs functioned as clubs, bludgeoning every Mechanical Monstrosity that came their way. Scrap and dirt, everywhere. Blood and Oil spraying from broken Skitarii warriors. As more came the Warboss turned to see how his retinue was doing. The Boyz were pulling their own weight and more. Clubbing and denting any metal that dared to move in their presence. Even the Boss himself was forced to smile at their brutality. This smile came before checking on the condition of the Mek. He expected to see a small(er) Ork with a Klaw in his eye, crying like a little baby, but what he saw was a small bloody puddle and a Chord Claw covered in the stuff. This shocked the Boss so badly, he neglected to see the Vanguard that plunged their weapons into the Giant's calves, bringing him to his knees. He fought on for hours, but without his massive size advantage to the crawling and shambling Skitarii, he was swarmed from every angle. As the Strange Boyz noticed this, they too were shocked, and overwhelmed. Hundreds of shambling Skitarii, supported by broken servo skulls, and servitors, swang their tools in hopes of Purging the new Greenskin tribe from their Forge World. The Boss, he'd had his Klaw all bus restrained, lashing out with his free hand and sharp teef. The Boyz were not faring well either, their Shootahs falling to shambles in their hands due to frequent bludgeons. This wasn't bad. This was the end. The end of the "Greatest Warboss on this Scrap Yard". The end of a tribe that never started. Maybe their spore-children will find out the valiant battle between The Orks and the shambling Mechanical Menagerie. As the Warboss was forced to lower his head by a multitude of Claws and Servo Arms, a beautifully crafted axe was lifted above his neck.

" -

E"

These words echoed over the Yard like they came from a Vox Caster implanted into every carapace strewn across the field. They had meant the massive metal talons bound to the Klaw on 'EadCrushers arm. They were of course made out of the same metal the axe was.

"D I E"

Chop.

A head rolled across the battlefield. Its eyes still open. It leaked fluid. Blood? Oil? It made no difference in the night. The Warbosses Body slumped over. Falling forward with a great thud. He had grown immensely in size since the battles start. A whole 4 feet approximately, but this only served to expand the amount of crushed Skitarii under the body. The Skitarii Warrior that had marked him "Xenos Filth" had fallen from his perch on top of the mass of writhing mechadendrites, and Vanguard. Their distinct dome shaped heads crashing to the floor as the "leader", the one with the axe, had dismounted. No longer feeling the need to attack. The Strange Boyz watched, jaws agape as the event played out. One moment the Massive Figure was standing proudly killing swath after swath of Machine, next there was a body, and an axe. The Skitarii Master's axe rose from the ground, wrapped in the metal-flesh hands of fury incarnate. Its Bionik red eye lifted it up and raised it in the air, proclaiming victory. The beast was little more than 5'10, but its presence strike fear to all who gazed upon its twisted grimace. A battlecry. The Yard was drowned in a sea of what could only be described as the sound of violence itself. It ripped through the audio processors and ears of everyone who participated on the battlefield. A head rolled across the battlefield. A head drenched in blood and oil. A head that once believed in the heat of battle over all. For it was the Omnissiahs will. The dome shaped head, rolled across the battlefield. Light fading from its eye. and Above its body it roared.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHH!"

An Ork, had claimed victory. Its hands covered in all sorts of syringes and scalpels. It had cut the head right off the Leader with a sharp "Snicker-snap!" He threw the axe at the nearest and largest Vanguard, splitting its chest right down the middle. The Strange Boyz had ran straight to their Boss, hoping to free him, but there another Ork stood. Another Bionik eye glowed in the dark, but this one was still fresh with blood. He slid to the Boss's Klaw, and grabbed a string hanging off the motor, revving the Huge Klaw into a fiery new life. Sparks flew from the Enormous 'EadSplitter and with it, the massive body rose, like the rising sun, except this sun was fueled by hate, driven by mania, and aiming to kill. With this he stood back up and looked at the two enigmatic Orks. One was a Painboy, the Mad Doks that were staple in Ork medical practices, and next to the Boss, stood familiarity. The Mek Boy that had started this whole endeavor stood next to him, picking up the Chord Klaw in the Puddle of Blood to his side, and rending it from its former host. He fashioned a band out of the following Chord and stabbed the end of it into his spine. Creating a new, dangerous appendage out of the killing weapon, and defying all logic, the Chord Claw, now becoming a Chod Klaw, began to work, buzzing in tune with any metal it wanted to cut through, slicing through metal like hot Mek looked up at the Boss, and the Boss smiled. Grinned actually, a grin with more teef than anyone Ork could count.

"Mucking about would normally earn yous a smack! But dis time, I fink yous deserve to do the honours" He gestured to the waves of Skitarii rebalancing themselves from the sudden decapitation of their Leader.

"Hows about you show me how dat Klaw of yours works"

The Mek returned the smile.

"Heheh, sure fing. Boss."

He lashed out at a Servitor, easily removing it's arms from its body. This delighted the Ork, as the next 5 or so Skitarii he repeated the process to would fall just as easily.

The Warboss quickly took control of the fight and rallied the Strange Boyz back into formation, throwing them some rather sharp pieces of metal to use as axes.

"Oi! Dok! You 'ere to take my teef and arm like the other Grot? Let me tell you, if you are, It won't end well!" Shouted the Boss to the Painboy

"Hahaha-HA! You can keep those! I got all these Mekky Grots to do my "Experiments" on! Hard to fink, but deyz still got some fleshy bitz!"

"Roight den. You here to stay, or are youz 'ere to take my Tribe?"

"I'll be with whoever can supply me with enough... samples. Ork or...otherwise!"

With this, the Painboy dug his gauntlets into the head of another Skitarii, skewering it, and then throwing it at its brethren.

The night dragged on. 'EadCrusher barking orders to his Boyz and his Mek, while the Dok slifed through swathes using his "Doks Tools" while injecting any nearby corpse with strange substances, causing most to explode, or dissolve from the inside into a green acidic liquid. No longer blood sprayed into the sky, only Oil. Orks formed a line against the horde, grinding down the waves of drones, to just ripples. Battlefield strewn with metal, scrap added to the piles. Soon enough the waves stopped coming. The Boss grabbed the Severed head of the Leader and stood on top of the largest pile and announced with pride;

"IZ IS WARBOSS 'EADCRUSHA! AND IZ IS GONNA BE DA BIGGEST ORK ON DIS SCRAP HEAP!"

These words echoes into the Yard, and only death cold silence answered.

"Wots yer name Dok?"

"My name? My name is SnickerSnap. Mad Dok SnickerSnap!"

"Zoggin Stupid name" Chimed the Strange Boyz.

"Zoggin Stupid Boyz!" Retorted the Dok.

And with that, the Warband travelled farther out into the wastes. Furthering their journey to become the biggest Tribe on all of Minos V.


	4. Chapter 4: A Change in Perspective

Chapter 4: A Change of Perspective

"We're da best. Think diffrent do ya? Come and have a go then, ya runty little wimp!"-Nob Gasgrakh

Oi! Dis iz Warboss 'EadCrusher! And Iz is gonna be tellin da story now! Da Mek spotted one of dem floaty 'umie skulls and said it wuz "Rekording" us. Writin' a story 'bout me and me Mob! Well, if dem Inquisitive 'umies want to know more about us, den we'z iz gonna tell 'em ourselves! And I'll use dis 'ere skull to continue "Rekording" us. After wez stomped da Metal Tides, we packed it up and moved out to find a more "permanent" camp. Now, in da Skrap Yard, it's ded 'ard to find a place not too far from da good Skrap, but far enuff away from da "Oceans" dat da "Sea Monstahs" can't sneak up on us.

*[TZZZZ] Minos V Is covered with a vast Ocean that is thoroughly polluted with oil and other byproducts of the Factorums that dominated the planet. These Oceans are full of Mechanical Monstrosities created from heaps of discarded, but living servitors, Skitarii Warriors, and even some Tech Priests who have turned to the Dark Mechanicum and unleashed Mechanical Monstrosities into these Oceans to wreak Havoc on the former Mechanicum that lived on the planet. [TZZZZZT]

*The Servo Skull will continue to cut in and out when a terminology needs to be explained

Now, while we were out searchin', I decided to look over da Mob. Da Mek had grown a bit, 'e went from a runt, to a bigger runt. [TZZT] 6' Standard Imperial Measurements, to around 8' [TZZT] Dat arm of 'is is nuffin to sneeze about either. Its as long as 'e is and can cut through skrap like it was a Klaw through squig pie. It's one of dem "Kord Klaws" da Metal 'Umies used, 'cept he's got it stuck in 'is back, right below 'is neck. Tell ya wot, it's no where near as Smashy as 'EadSplitter, but it'll get da job done. I've seen 'im lift skrap twice 'is height, and 'free times iz weight! Dok SnipperSlap or whuteva 'e calls 'imself also got 'imself a nice pair of Snippuhs too. Dok's tools 'e say they are. 'e's got an 'Urty Syringe too. Not a lot of Dakka, but dat needle 'e's got hooked up to dose Speshul Serums 'e likes makin'. Dose 'Umies aint got a lotta fleshy bits left, but when da Dok stickks em wif dat stuff, deys goin' all sorts of mad. Last night I 'ad to stop 'im from stickking me Grots wiff da stuff. We'z only got a few of 'em and wez gonna need a Runtherd before we can start kicken 'em around. Da Strange Boyz got dere Shootahs smashed up 'n da Mek got straight to work makin new ones wiff da new Skrap we got from smashin dem Botz.

I turned to da Mek and asks 'im wot 'es tinkerin wiff.

"Uhh, Boss" 'e says to me.

"Uhh, Boss, i've been tinkerin wiff a new Shootah. It's ded killy, 'n 'as more DPS den any ova Shootah you've eva seen!"

"Wot's DPS?" I asks

"Err, Well dats Dakka per Shot!"

"Heh, It's shots spread out and make a beautiful sound as it blasts! Not as fast firing as da standard though."

"Well dats great! Wen'll you 'ave it done?"

"Umm. Well, I reckon at da time, it'll take a few days to whip up a workin' prototype"

"Right den. Get to work on dat, me and da Boyz'll look for camp for tonight."

And Wif dat, me and da Strange Boyz found a nice plot in between some of da Skrap Mounds and cleared a big circle. Dis wuz gonna be camp for tonight, and tomorrow we'll look for some place to set up a proppa Camp. For now we'z still got daylights t'burn and Skrap to find for da Mek's "Invenshuns". Ill keep an eye on dat Dok. If 'es anyfing like da ova one, I feel I'll 'ave to krump 'im.

Da Sun is still out. And I see da 'umies crawlin ova da horizon. Dey wont bovva us 'less we bovva dem. But if dey gets too close, we'll 'ave to fight it. We a'int nuffin to mess wiff, but if we were to fight, I don't finks we'll win. It'll be one zoggin smash up though ill tell ya wot! Afta last night though, I fink a "takticul rest" is in order.


	5. Chapter 5: Takin' Stock

Chapter 5: Takin' Stock

"Gork loves me, and Mork finks I is da best. No puny oomies is gonna kill me, not when da greenest gods in da galaxy is watchin' me!" -Kaptain Dedeye

Roight. Afta a good brawl a good nap is always a good idea. Krackin' skullz and Crushin' skrap is fun 'n all, but ya gotta take proppa kare of yer body, less you wanna be on da recevin' end of one of dem metal 'umies blasta gunz. Afta da camp was made, we decided to take stock of wot we haz now. Dem Crawlin' fingz was all ova us, I wuz hopin' one of my boyz didn't Kick da Killa Kan. None did, but now deyz won't shut up 'bout how "Dey smashed up dem Tin Boyz wifout firin' a single shot!" All of 'em got a right dink to da dome I tell ya wot. Dok says dere all connected in some way and keeps buggin' me to let 'im cut one open.I'm still not too sure about dat Dok, but afta 'e patched us all up, I can't roight say, I want 'im gone. For a Painboy 'es not too keen on taken teef or replacin' yer brain wif a Squigs, but 'e drools at da chance to stick sumfing with 'is 'Urty Syringe. I'll keep an eye out for 'im while da dust settles.

Da Boyz spotted a big wide area not too far from da current camp. I say we makes for it in da mornin' and set up shop. Wez overdue for a place we can call 'ome, and 'less you wanna sleep wif da Deff Crawlers, you'z need ta keep a big camp. Dem 'unters only get dose Orks who wot fink deyz more killy den a Gargant, and only durin' da nights.

[TZZT] Skitarii Rust-Crawlers are hunters by design. They are driven by an artificial lust for hunting. Due to low maintenance in recent years, they have gone into a sort of "Primal" state. They rarely hunt anything that has a set home, save travelers and Orks too far from the Tribe, preferring roving warbands as prey. [TZZT]

Da Mek's droolin at da chance to open a Mek Shop. Dat Shootah must be really itchen in 'is mind. I kan't say I also don't want to see da boyz wiff more Dakka, but wez gotta get sum more Orkz in dis Tribe. We still need a Runtherd, a Weirdboy and sum (and I mean, A LOT) of Boyz. If we kan set up a noice enuff camp, sum ova wanderin' Orks might join up wiff us.

Now, we wuz movin' on, past da dunes to da clearin' where new camp wuz gunna be.

"'EadCrusher" da Dok looks at me like one of dem 'Umies wif da funny hats and stupid accents.

"Ova da dunes eh heh."

I start my stride over a pile of Skrap and, out of Mork knows where, sumfing hits me in de back of da 'ead. It wuz da Zoggin Dok. Hes crouchin' ova me wif his head peakin out ova da dunes.

"GROT! I 'AVE 'ALF A MIND TO SPLIT YER SK-"

"Quiet!" SnickerSnap sayz.

"It'll hear you!"

"Wot'll 'ear me?"

Da next wordz dat come out of 'is mouth stop me dead cold. I can feel me 'art racin as I freeze. I look at the Dok and 'e tiltz 'is 'ead towards ova da pile. I peer over 'n dere it is. Big and Red. Covered from leg to top wiff enuff Dakka to level any small Tribe. I 'eard da wordz dat came out of dat stabby Grotz mouth, but it took me a bit until I understood dem. What 'e said wuz Death. What 'e said wuz Pain. What 'e said wuz...

"Deff Crawler"

It's damaged. It's got 6 legs normally, but sumfing smashed up da one on da left side in da middle, and da back right one was ripped klean off. It wuz practically draggin' itself 'cross da floor, but dat Kannon it had on its side wuz more den enuff warnin for anyfing to not let it see 'em and to just let it pass.

I slide back down da hill to let da Boyz know wots out there. I get close to dem and I 'ear da krunchin of metal and da firin' of gunz. I turn back 'round and charge back up da pile and I seez it. Sum of dem Metal 'Umies ridin' Striders are chargin' at da Deff Crawler. De Metal 'Umies dont look as smashed up as da ones from da ova night. No. Deyz new 'ere. Dere coats arent ripped up or burnt, and dere shiny bitz sparkle. Deyz is tryin' to krump da Deff Crawler. I could 'ear dem shoutin at each ova.

"You have been damaged. We will now repair the Dunecrawler where you reside and purpose your mechanics for the Omnissiah."

"YOU KNOW NOT OF THE OMNISSIAH!" Da Deff Crawler booms back.

"HIS WILL IS THAT WE PURGE THIS LAND OF ALL LIFE! HE SEES THIS LAND AS SACRILAGE, AND AS HIS WORTHY WEAPON, I WILL PURGE!"

"So be it."

Da Riderz charge da Deff Crawler and ram its flankz. Dey have some sort of pokey stikz dat krakle as dey hit da Deff Crawler.

"HOW I HAVE MISSED THE THRILL OF COMBAT!"

The Deff Crawler lets off a massife puff of sand 'n rust as it getz up. Its still wobbly, but It no longer has to take da stabbin' from dem Rider Boyz. As it stands a quiet thrummin' 'eard. Suddenly, roight before me eyez, da air 'round da Mechs krakle blue as dey jump back from da Crawler. Dey empty da rounds from der blasterz. Dey fizzle out as dey hit da glowin' blue bubble surroundin da Crawler. A hatch opens on da Crawler as a Metal 'Umie crawls out and grabs 'old of da Gun on da top and starts puttin' out more Dakka den a Warbike. Da gunner on top iz screamin zoggin' murder at da Riderz. Sumfing about da Omnisiyah and how he wanted dem to purge dis wurld.

"We are representatives of the Forge World of Mars! We will not stand your tech-heresies!"

The big bad Rider wuz ridin' a gold Strider. He pulled out sum blue fing and throws it at da Deff Crawler.

"I deem you Heretic!"

And wif dat, da Deff Crawler is covered in blue flame. It's roar of pain is heard throughout da Heap. I turn to da Dok 'n da biggest smile spreads 'kross 'is face.

"Now dat wuz a roight proppa foight."

"Are yew jokin! Dat Rider Boy just took out a Deff Crawler! Didn't even take a scratch!"

"Dat Rider Boy just got us some noice skrap!"

I looked back an' da Shiny Rider and he nodded at 'iz Boyz and all of a sudden, ZZAP! deyz all gone!

"Go on den Kaptain! I don't fink it bites...anymore..."

"BOYZ! Come wiff me. Make sure none of dem Rider Boyz stick me wif dem spears of ders!"

I walk up to da Deff Crawler 'n try an' see if any of it's still salvageable. While im still crawlin' up, one of da Rider Boyz TZZAPS back in an' places sumfing on da Crawler. I don' need to be ol' NailBrain to know wot dat iz. Itz on of dem Tellyportas dey'r usin. I order my Boyz to fire at da Rider but he Tellyportas out 'fore any of da Dakka hits 'im. I charge at da Crawler 'fore it can Tellyporta out. Dat blue light starts to surround it. I let out a Roar 'n grab hold of da Kannon on its shoulder. I yank 'n yank 'till I manage ta Rip the whole zoggin' fing off.

The Deff Crawler Tellyportas out 'fore I can grab its Mega Kannon, but I still got its Beamy Deff Gun.

"Now dats a Shootah..." Da Mek sez.

I grab the side of da fing an' tug on da kraklin' wires. Da kannon gives a kreak 'n starts humming. 'Fore I know it, im on da ground 'n i've shot a hole klean through a Skrap Pile. All of da Mob iz starin' slack jawed at da sight of it.

"Haha! Now dat's a beaute!" Laffs da Dok.

"Let yer Mek hold on to it fer a while. Im no MegaMek, but I kan see dat dat fing needs a proppa trigger."

"Heh, he's roight Boss" chimed da Mek

Still speechless, I hand da Shoota to da Mek. It drops 'im to da ground.

"I didn't mean actually!"

I pick the hulking cannon back up and start towards da klearing.

"Mek, change ov plans. Make a shed as fast az possible. I want dis to be da Killyest fing da Great Green Dodz 'ave eva seen!"

"Uh, Right away Boss!"

We all 'ead off to da Clearing 'n Me an' da Boyz start to push da Skrap around to make a makeshift Crater. Wen' night comes I hand da Kannon to da Mek, leaving it in front of da table 'es made for 'imself. I return to my spot round da Kampfire. Tomorrow everyfin' changes. Tomorrow, we make Kamp. Permanently.


	6. Chapter 6: The Forces of the Magos Juris

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Translating to Gothic...

Journal 1:

Entry 1:

I am Invictus Acquisitor Aleksander Tekhnik of the Magos Juris. I have come to the fallen Forge World of Minos V to restore the Omnissiah's Will. The Machine God Wills us to purge the filthy Greenskins from the surface so that we may rip the wires out of the Hereteks that lie underneath. The Onager Dunecrawler was the first of many. These monstrosities, these perversions of our Master's will. They dare to question our understanding of His will? They dare to brand the Mars Mechanicum Hereteks? We will show them just how wrong they are. And if it takes the full extermination of this planet... so be it.

End.

"Enginseer"

Aleksander turns to the head of the repair crews on the Oberon Class Battleship: The Steel Fury

"My name is Danila Ispravit. The Head Enginseer. You will address me as so, or you will not address me at all."

"I take orders from no lowly Enginseer!" Aleksander said growling.

Aleksander powered on his Taser Lance and attempted a swing at Danila. The swing was not meant to shock the Tech-Priest, just show him his place. The Tech-Priest deflected the blow with the massive Servo Arm on his left shoulder. Aleksander was left reeling from the force of the swatting back of his Great Lance. The Enginseer took this opportunity to use the servo arm to seize the end of the Lance and brought the tip of it to his Bionik eye. After the seemingly instant examination of the weapon, Enginseer Ispravit and his many mechadendrites engulfed the Lance, covering it with swarming masses of mechanical appendages.

"You wield this lance with pride. No doubt made from the great forges of Mars itself." The Enginseer noted verbally.

"It would be Heretical to damage this Lance and it's Machine Spirit. However, remember this. My duty as an Enginseer is to see this vessel through to its purpose."

He made a snapping motion towards the Magos with his massive Servo Arm

"You have no bearing on my goals, and you are not required for this task to be completed."

The Mechadendrites retracted back into Danila's Rust Red cloak. The Servo Arm grabbed hard at the Lance, rending it from its Owners grasp. He flipped the handle towards himself and with his Metallic hands jabbed the Taser into the Dragoon Rider's Mid-drift. The Head Rider mechanics were quickly overloaded with the brief shock and his non-vital systems shut down, leaving him non operational on the Captains Seat.

The rest of the Swarming Tech-Priests stared on, until the Head Enginseer swiveled around on his mass of Mechadendrites and ordered them to continue as commanded. They obeyed without any hesitation. Danila placed the lance against the seat of the chair. He was no leader, but just because Enginseer's are looked down upon in the Mechanicus, they refuse to be denied the glory of being included in the Quest for Knowledge, even if it is just maintaining the War Machines used to seek this knowledge. Danila returned to his quarters in the belly of The Steel Fury, and continued to command his Enginseer brethren to maintain the ships integrity.

When Aleksander awoke, he was thoroughly and mercilessly humiliated by what he had considered a lowly cog in the great machine. He pondered mounting his Sydonian Dragoon and spearing the Enginseer for daring to attack the Invictus Acquisitor . However, the glaring glances he receives as he reached for his lance were more than enough warning that, although he was the highest ranking, the ship's crew would only answer to the Head Enginseer or the Mechanicus itself. His political power had no grounds among the many cogs that made up The Steel Fury, it would be governing over a machine, incapable of emotion, and only responding to it's parts reports.

Aleksander was only on this ship because of his job as a member of the Magos Juris. He was to purge the world of Hereteks, members of the Adeptus Mechanicus who has strayed from the Omnissiah's light and sought to corrupt the Machine Spirits to follow their bidding, never caring how it affected the manifestation of the Machine god. Word had spread that the many remaining servo skulls that dotted the planets surface and underground had been recording not only the fall of the Forge World, but the rise of the Dark Mechanicum on the planet. The former Fabricator General had been rumored to "experiment" with Artificial Intelligence. The highest form of heresy in the Cult Mechanicus is to create a being that can think on its own. Aleksander Tekhnik was sent to find this Heretek and end the traitors life. The planet was also to be searched for any sort of recoverable technology however this fell under the purview of the Magos Explorator Fleets.

Aleksander rose from his seat, lance in hand and moved towards the Rider Quarters, the area of the ship where he and the rest of the Sydonian Dragoon riders took their time doing self repairs and maintaining their equipment. He took his rest in his cabin, calling upon a servitor to re-calibrate his optical sensors. They were still off center from the encounter with the Head Enginseer.

Lower in the decks were companies of Skitarii Rangers and Vanguard. All awaiting their orders, preferably ones to kill. They had no cabins, and instead stood in rows of tens and twenties. Unlike the Riders they were as far from human as possible without being AI. The Dragoon's Striders were another part of the decks. They must be in constant motion, so they are placed on generator treadmills, adding to the energy reserves of The Steel Fury. The design secrets behind the Ironstrider Engine were lost, and the concept of perpetual motion was abandoned. So it is that the Ironstriders of today are never switched off, lest their relentless Machine Spirit fade away forever. Above the perpetually moving Striders were craned to hoist their riders and saddle them on the Iron Mount.

The rest of the ship was full of many different rooms with various uses. The Bridge of the ship was where the Captain was to be seated. In the room were many Astropaths and Navigators, the only non-Mechanicus crew on board. The Engine Room was full of Enginseers and was subsequently their quarters. The smell of oil and incense filled this room. Differentiating between the two was difficult. Constant prayer was in motion to appease the Machine Spirit of The Steel Fury. Its Spirit full of fire and spite. All it wanted was to see it's enemies engulfed by its various weapons systems. Not much unlike the Engine room, the Weapon Targeting System was held in a room of its own. It was to be appeased and covered in Holy Oil at all times, to assure it's targets were always hit.

All in all, The Steel Fury and it's crew were a force to be reckoned with. The world of Minos V was on it's radar and was about to face a threat bigger than any Ork could muster. However the level of unrest between the Crew members and the Invictus Acquisitor's forces may lead to some "minor complications". Either was, another faction lays beneath the former Forge World. One that was just as devoted to the Machine God as the incoming Mars Mechanicus envoy is. They just interpret His will a little differently. Between two warring groups of the same faction, one thing is sure. The complete and utter annihilation of the Xenos invaders. The destruction of the Greenskins. Between The Mechanicum and the Warlords of Minos V, how will Warboss 'EadCrusher reach his goal of becoming the strongest force on the Planet.


	7. Chapter 7: Forge World Minos V's Forces

Chapter 7: The Forces of Forge World Minos V

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Message sent 100 standard years prior from today...

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This is the Fabricator Locum of Minos V. We are sending a distress call to any surrounding Imperial Forces. The Orks have overrun our planet, and we can no longer hold off the Green Tides. They are just a splinter of the main Force. They are headed deep into the Armageddon Sector. One of their Hulks was destroyed by our Orbital Defenses. Its wreckage crashed in the Oil Wastes. Out of the Hulk poured Greenskins innumerable. We have held off forces of the Orks before, and this force was relatively small, but they fought with such fury, such devotion. They were chanting a name... G[TCCH]ZG[KRAKK]UL. They were so driven by this name. Every one of their infantrymen fought like an Elite. Our Skitarii forces fought a losing battle. It was 5 to 1. Our Fabricator General Himself, Archmagos Dresden, a Magos Biologis, Took up arms against the filthy Xenos. Things were looking up after that. The Archmagos, although retired from a life on the front lines, was a whirlwind of metal and fury! He cleaved through Ork flesh with his Axe, Cog Splitter. Him and his Skitarii Vanguard pushed back the Orks and rallied the troops. We had pushed them back into the desert. I stayed back in the Forge Spire overlooking the battle. It was beautiful... Waves of the fires of our Forges engulfing the Orks in machine and murder. Our Leman Russ's Rolled off the lines firing, and our Basilisk Lines sang songs of death and destruction from high above! Ours was an orchestra in action and the Greenskins were a sour note. A cacophony of bullets and roaring versus a crescendo of artillery and harmonizing. All was going well for us. Our Fabricator General had been a conductor for our forces. Writing a Symphony of Death for the Orks, while The forces back at the forge prepared elegies our fallen comrades and a refrain for the shattered Xenos. And then silence took the field.

It strode out of the hulk. A massive being, taller than any other of his kind. A massive Chain-Axe was held in his hand with a crude but gigantic plasma weapon in the other. He charged through the field with his retinue of Elites. The Orks rallied to their leaders war cry, and once again the chant of the warlords name rose, but this wasn't the figure they called for. This one was just a pawn in a greater game, but this pawn was hundreds of pounds of flesh and anger. He and his retinue reinvigorated the routing Greenskins, and our forces were forced back into the trenches and Factorums. More and more Orks arrived by falling chunks of Hulk debris and swamped our cities. We had lost. No amount of Chanting and Litanies could save us now. We had to turn to...darker forms of the machine to survive. Our Fabricator General, as a last act, ordered the citizens and armies into a full retreat into the undergrounds of the World. Sealing ourselves forever in the tombs of this world. Our order was to gather all Mechanicus forces and go down. The last words we heard from the outside was "Survive, even if that means offending what we hold dear." We complied.

Our Magos set to work on a weapon that would cleans this planet of all hostile Xenos life. Bathing the surface in cleansing fire. We would survive at any cost. I send this call in hopes that someone will release us from our tombs early. Before we resort to dire measures. This is Magos Kooperal. Fabricator Locum of Minos V. Hold fast brothers. Pray for Deliverance. The Emperor Protects.

Incoming Message...

Message Sent 20 Standard Years prior from the same source...

Loading Message...

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Translating to Gothic...

[TZZT]

The Machine Will Rise

[TZZT]

We Will Repair

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We Will Kill

[TZZT]

He Wills Their Deaths

[TZZT]

We Will Kill For The Omnissiah

[TZZT]

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Prepare For Deliverance

Th[TZZT]mpero[Crackle]Prote[Pop]

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Welcome to the Ballad...

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